Me Before You: New Chapters
by kpfanfiction
Summary: This follows up on the alternative final chapter & epilogue that I posted for, "Me Before You." It includes stories from Will & Clark's life after my alternate ending and before my epilogue to the original book. Originally, I was posting chapters individually, but will now put them all here as chapters of 1 larger story. Chap 3 has been re-drafted after original posting. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Will and I had been married for almost three months when Will raised the idea of us making a baby. In typical Will fashion, he brought the topic up unexpectedly and in a tone of casual sarcasm that disguised the actual gravity of the subject and masked the deep thinking that had preceded it.

It was Treen that started it, actually, and quite without meaning to. She'd been late getting in from dinner with a new bloke she'd met online. It seemed to have been more successful than her typical night out, from which she usually returned earlier and less optimistic than this. While she'd been out, Will and I had been happily minding Thomas, who was sound asleep by the time Treen flounced in. I'd teased her a bit about what she, a young single mother, was thinking being out so late and Treen, being in excellent humor, had responded by sticking her tongue out at me and practically dancing upstairs. Once she was out of earshot, Will had joked about how if she kept this up, she'd be up the pole again. We'd had a good laugh at that; at least at first we had, but then Will had gone rather serious and started to look a bit wistful. When I asked him what was wrong, he said something about how that was not necessarily a bad thing, being up the pole. And then he'd smiled, a smile that was both very happy and also rather sad, and he'd said, "Sounds rather grand, actually, don't you think, Clark?"

We'd made our way to bed soon after and had not spoken any more about it. Later though, as I lay awake, listening to Will's steady breathing and feeling thankful for it, I got to thinking about what he had said. And about how much I loved Will Traynor, and how wonderful it was to be married to him. Then I started thinking about how much fun Will and I had when we were minding Thomas. One thing led to the next and then I was not only thinking about those things, but about what Will had said and, more importantly, about how he'd said it. And the more I thought about it, the better the idea sounded. So…I did some research.

And I found that, yes, quads can father children and, even with Will's injury, it was possible; it would not be easy, but we _could_ do it. Or at least, there was a chance we could. There were some obstacles in the way, obviously, but it was possible. The traditional way was unlikely to work, and even IVF was a long shot because, as I learned, Will's injury made it quite likely that his sperm would always have low motility, which made it very difficult for them to fertilize an egg. I could go on with the various details and potential problems, but rather than bore you with the details, let us just say that our best option was something called "Intracytoplasmic Sperm Injection," ICSI for short.

Not knowing how to broach this subject with Will, and worrying about how he might respond to it, I spent the better part of the next couple of weeks agonizing over a variety of plans for bringing it up; everything from preparing a special candlelight dinner to presenting him with a neatly organized folder of information printed off the internet. To say that I was relieved when Nate raised the subject for me is an absurd understatement.

We were sitting in the garden, Will in his chair, me beside him on the bench, with Nate sitting on the ground before us. We'd finished lunch and Nate was telling us a funny story about the weekend he'd spent with his sister and her rather large brood of children when he just casually asked us, as if it was a completely normal question he was asking of an absolutely typical couple, "Now that you're legal, do you two ever think about churning out a rugrat or two?"

It was a good thing I'd finished my meal, because I almost choked on my tongue when he said it, but Will just smiled (in a way that made me wonder when I thought back on it later if he had put Nate up to the question) and he said, "You know, Nathan, that's a fine idea. What do you say, Clark?" I stared at them both dumbly for a moment, unable to form a coherent response for what like a very long time, but then I managed to sputter, "Perhaps." They exchanged a look at this and both burst into laughter, which raised my temper and kick-started my ability to speak. I began by telling them both to shut it and then, when they did, I realized Will was serious. From there, our conversation got easier; in fact, it all just kind of, flowed. All the thoughts I'd been trying to figure out the best way of sharing all just tumbled out.

I told them about my research. Nate nodded and concurred that ICSI seemed like a good way to go, then he excused himself from the conversation with a polite ruse about having to go wash up the lunch dishes. Will agreed about the ICSI, casually revealing that he'd done some research as well and that he'd even gone so far as to have had some tests done and that, yes, this did indeed seem to be our best option. But, Will said, it was important we discuss it, because ICSI does carry an increased risk of birth defects and, perhaps, he said, we should consider a sperm donor. This was a great idea, I'm sure, for many couples, but not for us. I was emphatic about not wanting to go that route; this was something I wanted to try to do with Will, literally, so that was the only way I was even going to talk about it. Will seemed concerned, but at the same time, pleased. By the time Nathan rejoined the conversation, Will and I had our minds made up.

The doctors told us we had a fifty/fifty chance of conceiving, at best. The motility of Will's sperm, or more accurately, their lack of motility, concerned the doctors, as did Will's overall health; and, since I'd never conceived before, they advised running a battery of tests on me before attempting anything. Will and I took all of their advice into consideration and decided to move forward with the ICSI without the tests. Within two months, miraculously, I was pregnant.


	2. New Chapter 2

A New Chapter 2

The first few weeks of pregnancy were smooth sailing. Will and I were excited, blissfully so, and we had agreed that, for a little while, we would keep the happy news to ourselves - except for Nathan, of course – he sees too much of us and knows us too well for us to keep big secrets from him. Even if we'd tried to, I'm sure he'd have figured it out. It was helpful, actually, to have him in on the secret, especially around week five, when my morning sickness kicked in to overdrive.

Nathan and Will were eating scrambled eggs when I dragged myself out of bed and into the kitchen. Will gave me his most dashing smile and said, "Morning, sunshine!" I growled at him, daring him to smile again, which, of course, he did, "Eggs?" He asked. My stomach lurched. "God, no! I'm still bloody sick." I said, and sank into the chair beside Will. Will's smile turned to a frown, "I'm sorry, Clark. No better this morning?" I shook my head slowly. "The dinner stayed down though, right?" Nathan asked, from Will's other side. When I said nothing, Will nodded for me.

No one said anything more for a bit. Then Nathan smiled consolingly across the table, and offered, "Can you think of anything that might stay down, Lou? I made eggs, but I can cook something else. Anything you like." I shook my head. "Oh, come on, Clark; don't play on his sympathies. Are you angling for a full fry-up, then?" Will joked. I knew he was joking, and that he was trying to be helpful; but it wasn't helping and, for some reason, that really galled me. I began to feel very angry with both of them suddenly and my eyes filled with tears. Soon my nose was running and I was snuffling it into my pajama sleeve. Nathan handed me a napkin. Wiping my nose and mumbling a thank you, I put my head down on the table and cried.

After a moment, I heard Will saying, "Clark?" Then again, a bit louder, when I didn't reply, "Clark? I say, Clark, are you going to make it?" Breathing deeply, without really looking up, I attempted to compose myself. I was getting annoyed with Will, but also with myself. Slowly, I raised my head. Will raised an eyebrow at me, he had the hint of a smile on his face, but also was looking genuinely concerned. He was obviously waiting for some kind of an explanation. Nathan was watching me with concern as well and I supposed I did owe it to them to try.

"Look at me," I began, then trailed off, pausing as I took a moment to try and find the words. I looked to Nathan. He was eating his eggs, but he paused to smile encouragingly at me. Then he got up and walked back over to the stove, presumably to get the tea water, which was beginning to whistle. Will was looking more worried by the second, "Come on, you're worrying me, Clark. Let us help."

"It's just," I began again, falteringly, "it's just - if you really want to know – it's that, well, it's that I'm, I'm not even sure why the bloody hell I'm even crying! Alright? I probably knew why when I began, but I can't remember now! It happens all the time lately. It's maddening – and it's making me feel incredibly stupid and frustrated!"

"Well," Will began. I turned on him, "Don't you dare make a joke, Will Traynor! "Don't you dare!" Before Will could say anything more, Nathan jumped in, speaking calmly, but firmly, as he returned to the table with the tea. "As the medical authority in this room, I want to say a few things. First off, you are suffering from persistent nausea and intermittent vomiting, both of which are normal for this point in your pregnancy, but also, more than a little unpleasant for you as they not only make you feel miserable, but they are also keeping you from eating and sleeping normally. Right?" I nodded. "And," he continued, "this feeling of nausea and these instances of vomiting are happening because your body is creating a baby, which is a wonderful miracle, but also an exhausting process. So those are reasons 1, 2, 3 and 4 why you're not feeling yourself. Reason #5 is that you also are experiencing massive and rapid shifts in your estrogen and progesterone levels, -"

Will interrupted, "If I may, I think that what Nathan is trying to say, is that the hormonal changes of your pregnancy are normal, but they are making you feel lousy in lots of different ways, including emotionally."

I nodded. Oddly, I'd not thought of it this way before, but now that I did, it made sense.

Will continued, "I've been reading up on it." Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow, but Will ignored it and continued, calmly, "And, I'm thinking maybe it's time we talk with Treen and your mother. Let them in on our secret. What do you say? They might be of some support."

I paused, considering that. I had to admit, it all sounded rather logical. "Hmm," I said, "Mum and Treen. Yes, I think it's time. Don't see how it will hurt, really," and then in an attempt to lighten the mood, "I mean they're probably going to be furious if we don't let them in on the secret soon anyway, and, who knows, maybe they can be helpful." I managed a smile.

"Brilliant." Nathan said. Then he set the teapot down, opened the newspaper, and buried his nose in it as if the matter was quite closed. I was feeling much brighter. I turned to Will, who was looking much brighter himself, "You know, Will, now that I'm thinking about it, Treen had some fairly outrageous mood swings while she was expecting Thomas. I used to tease her about it, but mum scolded me for it. As I'm thinking, I recall she told me to _have a little sympathy_ and try to understand that Treen's whole body was changing to make the baby and that, while it was wonderful, it wasn't easy. She said that there would be moments when Treen was feeling wonderful and then others when she was feeling awful and that she wouldn't be able to help either one! Mum told me that it all was normal and that it would pass. She said that she'd felt the same when she was pregnant with me and then again when she was expecting Treen."

Will smiled. Suddenly, I realized I was feeling much better. "Thank you, Will."

"Happy to help." Will said, his old smile returning, "Shall we have them for dinner, then?"

"Nathan?" I asked, "Can you stay? Will you help me cook?" Nathan nodded, "At your service, Mrs." And so I nodded to Will. He just smiled. "What?" I asked him. "It's nothing," he said, mysteriously. Now I was intrigued, "No, seriously, what?" "Nothing," he was laughing now, "I was just thinking," and here, I think he actually was blushing a bit, then he cleared his throat and shook his head, "Nothing, just thinking that I believe I've been helpful," his smile spread, "and thinking that it's rather a good feeling to be helpful to my lovely wife, who is pregnant with our child, just a rather lovely way to start the day."

Nathan raised his teacup, "Cheers to that, mate."

Cheers, indeed, I thought. And then, not trusting myself to speak, but needing to express what I was feeling, I turned to my husband and I kissed him, a really good, long kiss, full on the mouth; it was a kiss that probably would have continued for some time longer if we'd not been interrupted by Nathan, who cleared his throat said rather loudly, "Nathan's still here, just in case you've forgotten. Just sitting here, drinking my tea."

And, with that, I pulled away, smiling. "Well," Will said, after a moment, also smiling, "Now that we've got that sorted. Let's try some of these eggs and a little tea, shall we, Clark?"


	3. New Chapter 3

Me Before You: A new chapter 3

Since Will knows I don't enjoy parties, and since we are both British, I assumed he would have enough sense to forgo the traditional American surprise baby shower. What I hadn't counted on was that Treen and Georgina were two peas in a pod when it came to idiocy like this and the two of them had united to plan an utterly ridiculous event and, "Surprise!" here I was, standing like a deer in the headlights while every female I'd spoken to since grade school seemed to be standing, gawking, and clapping at me. Luckily for me, I don't speak to many people outside my immediate family, so it was a relatively small party, although I wouldn't have said that at the moment.

Turning my back to the ground, so that I was showing my face to Will alone, a face by the way that I'm sure was beet red, I mouthed, "Seriously?" Will shrugged apologetically and mouthed back, "Not my idea." Then he winked and said, "I've got this. Take a minute, Clark, you need it." Then, he turned his smile from me to the guests and wheeled forward, thankfully, drawing the attention of the mob away from me by turning on the Traynor charm and melting everyone's hearts. It gave me the moment I needed to pull myself together. Nathan walked past me to follow Will; as he passed, he patted me on the shoulder and whispered, "You've got this."

I nodded and, taking a deep breath or two (or five) I managed a weak smile and extended my arms toward Treen and Georgina, both of whom were approaching me with devilish grins on their faces. As Treen pulled me in for a hug I smiled a big fakey fake smile for Georgina's benefit and then hissed into Treen's ear, "I'll get you for this."

Treen smiled back, held me at arm's length and said, loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Oh, it was nothing, darling! You are _so_ welcome!"

I would have responded to this with something not so nice, except that I saw Mum coming toward me with the most ridiculously happy smile on her face, and dad standing behind her with just a big a grin, that I just gave in and went with it, allowing the girls to lead me to an absurd wicker chair set at the center of the room. Apparently I was to be on display. "This is all so wonderfully American," I said, as they seated me. This inspired Treen to launch into a long explanation of Kate Middleton's baby shower, since her lecture was directed at the guests as well as me, it gave me a moment to breathe, and for Will and Nathan to wend their way back to my side. Nathan handed me a pink drink.

"Vodka, I assume?"

He laughed, "Sorry, Lou. The best I can do for the mother-to-be is," he paused, sniffing the drink, "fruit punch?" He looked to Will, whom I realized also had one. Nathan nudged the straw so Will could reach it. Taking a sip, Will sucked in his cheeks into a comical pucker, "Definitely not fruit punch. Lemonade. Very sour lemonade."

Laughing, I took the drink from Nathan and set it down beside me. I lifted my lemonade and took a deep sip as Will maneuvered his chair beside my own and said, "Clark, this is where we leave you."

"What?" I spluttered, spraying Will and Nathan with lemonade. "Where do you think you're going?"

Will and Nathan exchanged a look, "Told you so." Nathan said to Will.

"This is a ladies-only event, Clark. Nathan and I are just your chauffeurs today. We shall return at the end of the festivities to drive you home." Will told me, somewhat apologetically.

"Oh, you must be joking." I said. As I spoke, Treen approached, waving her hands at Nathan and Will as if she was shooing a cat off the counter, "Scoot, you two."

Georgina joined her, "Yes, Will. Go on. Daddy is waiting for you. I hear you're all going for lunch _elsewhere._ "

She emphasized the last word in a way that made Will and me both burst out laughing. Georgina rolled her eyes and beckoned Mr. Traynor over. He was accompanied by Thomas, who was so excited that I think he was actually vibrating; they were both followed by Camilla, who directed them, Will and Nathan none too subtly to the exit. I leaned in for a quick kiss from Will and then watched the guys as they went on their way. Thomas started after them, but stopped before he reached the door and struck a pose, calling out happily as he did, "Goodbye, everyone; I have to go now because I'm a _male_! Mommy says there are no males allowed to stay at the baby shower!"

This got a big laugh from the crowd, which encouraged him to ham it up all the more. Treen, who was already videotaping the impromptu performance, was nearly beside herself when Thomas added in a little dance and began chanting, "No males allowed! No males allowed!" At that point, even the two teenaged waitresses stopped to watch the show. Thomas was thoroughly enjoying himself and would happily have carried on indefinitely, but for Nathan who swooped in; picking him up from behind and literally carried him out over his shoulder. As he did so, Thomas waved and called out dramatically, "Bye, Mum! Bye, Grandmothers! Bye, Auntie Lou! Bye, ladies!"

All eyes were on Thomas and Nathan, who were both laughing as they headed out; I think I was the only one who saw that Will was about to miss the edge of the ramp that led out of the room. Usually, Nathan would have been on top of that, but he was occupied with Thomas. Usually, the ramp would have been wider and usually it would also have had a railing, but this was just a small restaurant in town and the ramp was makeshift at best. Flashing forward in my pregnancy hormone-filled imagination to a disaster that involved Will rolling up the ramp on only half his wheels so quickly that his chair flipped on him, I jumped from my wicker throne and screamed, "Will!"

Everyone turned toward me, I was already on my feet and across the room, grasping Will's chair in an effort to get him properly aligned. Thomas, who had been startled out of his moment of glory by my scream, looked momentarily as if he might burst into tears. Nathan put him down, ruffled his hair, and came to my assistance, "Right, mate," he said to Will, "Back a little and just a tad right, there we have it. Perfect."

That was it. It was just a few seconds and then things were back to normal and the guys proceeded up the ramp. A blush crept up Will's face, but he managed to make eye contact with me, with a charmingly cocked eyebrow, shaking his head at me as he went out. Thomas, who had recovered quickly from his shock, and tossed off a bright, "ta-ta, girls," to the two stunned looking waitresses as he marched past them on his way out. They watched as Will exited, but I was too immersed in my own drama to really pay them much mind. For a moment, I just stood there stupidly, my face burning as I realized that I'd overreacted and that my scream had most likely been quite embarrassing to Will. I was building up to a full-fledged panic attack over it when Camilla approached and put a gentle hand on my shoulder. I turned to her and she gave me an understanding smile. I exhaled a breath I didn't even realize I had been holding. Camilla and I weren't usually very close, but at the moment I could have hugged her. She was probably the only one in the room – in the world - who understood what it was like to feel as I did; not only to love Will, but also to worry about him constantly and (usually) silently, as I did.

"It's okay, Louisa." she softly said, "He's okay."

I nodded and, silently thanking her, I excused myself to the loo, where I locked myself in a stall, determined to pull myself together quickly. I was on the toilet and concentrating on taking deep breaths when the main door opened and two women entered. They began speaking in hushed tones.

"That was so sad."

"So sad! Imagine if it had tipped over?"

I froze.

"God, imagine? What the hell would we have done then?"

"No idea."

And, after a brief pause, "Seriously though, the saddest part of all of it is that his face is _so_ handsome."

My heart was pounding in my chest.

"Oh God, I know! He's so good looking – what a waste!"

"It's _such_ a waste."

Heart hammering, blood rushing so hard and fast in my ears I could no longer hear them, I slammed open the stall door and stepped out to face the waitresses. Before I could even think of what I might say, the words were coming out of my mouth, "Sad? Sad?! I'll tell you what's sad," I had no idea where I was going with this, but that didn't stop me, "What's really sad, very pathetically sad is you two! What's so terribly sad is that you two are so stupid and small minded that you will never, ever even realize how very stupidly wrong you are!"

It wasn't exactly a brilliant comeback, but it was the best I could think of at the moment. They just stared at me with their mouths agape. I stood, glaring at them, silently daring them to speak again. As I did, Camilla entered the loo, "Louisa, I was just coming to check," she stopped short when she saw my face.

Her concerned expression snapped me out of my rage, "Sorry," I said, seeing the worry in her eyes.

"I was just coming out now, actually. Sorry for the delay; I was talking with these two," and I paused here, realizing that what I was about to do wasn't going to help the situation in any way.

I redirected my thinking and struggled to come up with a civil adjective, "…With these _young ladies_ ," I said pointedly, then continued, "I don't think they realized I was in the stall when they came in, but…"

The girls were staring at me, mouths still literally hanging open. Camilla suddenly went pale; I'm sure from realizing what had happened. For some reason, that was the thing that made me realize, right at that instant, what I actually wanted to say. Taking a breath, I steadied my voice and tried to smooth my expression before I continued, "I overhead these two talking and they were just saying how very handsome Will is." I paused and looked at the girls. They exchanged a look, before both nodded and began fairly babbling, "Yes, ma'am. That is what we were saying!"

"Yes. We were saying he is very good looking. Very handsome."

"Really handsome."

And then, after an exchange of looks, "Right then, thank you, ma'am, ma'am."

And finally, as they rushed out, "Excuse us, please; thank you."

Camilla looked at me, skeptically, searching my face for the truth she suspected. I forced myself to betray nothing and focused all of my energy on smiling in the most reassuring way possible as I shrugged with feigned casualness and said, "You must admit, Camilla, your son is quite handsome." She hesitated a moment, then laughed out loud at this. Laughs from Camilla were rare, but what came next was even more surprising. Before I knew it, she was giving me a hug and then, holding me out at arm's length, she said, "Louisa," I raised both eyebrows, not sure what might happen next, she looked me square in the eye and said, "I'm so happy you are part of this family. Thank you."

As I reentered the party, Treen immediately swooped down upon me, grabbing my hand and dragging me toward Georgina and my mum, who were seated on either side of the wicker throne and surrounded by a mountain of wrapped presents. As I took it all in, Treen whined and pulled on my arm, "Where have you been? Come on, Lou; everyone's waiting for you!"

Camilla emerged from the bathroom a moment later and gave me the thumbs up (this really was to be an afternoon of firsts). In that absurd moment, I felt a rush of emotion and realized that I was actually very glad to be part of this family; a family filled with amazing women who loved me enough to plan such an utterly ridiculous event just for me. Laughing out loud at the thought of it all, I surrendered and followed Treen to my wicker throne, where I happily took my seat and prepared to enjoy my baby shower.


	4. Chapter 4

Me Before You: A New Chapter 4

I was tired, but happy as I returned home from the shower. The whole thing had been absolutely lovely but also rather overwhelming. As I pulled into the driveway, I paused a moment in the car, just breathing and, I suppose, just taking it all in. There was a mountain of presents in the back seat, another pile on the passenger seat, and still more in the boot. My mum and dad had offered to take them home for me, but I'd been excited to show Will and so I'd asked dad to just load them all in for me so I could drive myself home. As I was sitting there, wondering how I was going to bring it all inside and where we were going to put it all, the front door of the house opened and Nate emerged. "Hey there, I heard you knocked over a baby store, piled all the loot in your car and drove home; doesn't seem like a very good get away plan."

"You've found me out." I laughed.

Nate smiled back and told me, "You head on in and I'll tend to this."

I felt a twinge of guiltiness, like I should help, but when I tried to grab a few of the packages from the passenger seat, Nate shook his head and then gestured for me to go inside. "I've got all this. I'll bring it into the nursery for you. Will's waiting inside, eager to hear all about your day."

I hesitated, but Nate encouraged me, "Go on, then."

So I did. Entering, I was greeted by Will, who smiled a very dashing smile and said, "Well…tell me all about it. What did I miss?"

I kissed him as I passed; glad to see him and glad just to be home. I kicked off my shoes and flopped down on the sofa. Nate passed in and out of the room repeatedly, with arms full, on his way down the hall and around the bend to the nursery, while I explained to Will all the details of the shower, which (absent the comments from the daft cows in the loo) had been absolutely lovely. "They made me feel like the queen, actually; your mum in particular, and the food was scrummy. Will, everything was spot on."

Then I paused for a moment, as Nate passed through again, laden with gifts, "Oh Will, though, you've no idea of the amount of gifts… I mean, just look," I waved my arms toward the mountain of gifts that Nate was currently carrying through the foyer on his way to the nursery, "look at all this! I imagine we won't even have to furnish the nursery now – we can just pile up the boxes to serve, instead of buying furniture."

Will grinned at this. The nursery was a bit of a sore spot between us. When we'd first learned I was pregnant, Will and I had been over the moon about the idea of setting up a nursery and had whiled away hours dreaming about how we would create the perfect little sanctuary for the baby. From the start, we agreed on three things: One, neither of us fancied a traditional very girlish or very boyish look (especially since we'd not found out yet which we were having, girl or boy); two, I favored soft yellow for the walls and Will strongly preferred a pale green; and three, our baby's room would have a book case. Will also fancied a rug, but I was against it because it could limit his ability to navigate inside the room. Will insisted a baby's room should have a soft floor for crawling and playing. Will had promised to prove to me when we got to the shop that he could roll over the rugs with no problem; I'd remained unconvinced and insisted that we'd choose the most beautiful floor imaginable. He'd laughed and said again that he'd prove it to me at the shop.

We set aside the next weekend for shopping and began with a day trip to a very posh boutique that Georgina swore was "the" place to go. She'd been very excited about "helping" and had sorted all the details beforehand; she bossily directed me from the passenger seat as I drove us all over an hour to get there. The exterior of the shop was lovely and Georgina was chuffed as we arrived, but the moment we entered the shop, I knew the situation was set to be a complete cock-up. It was a tiny boutique with an obnoxiously uneven cobblestone walk up. As we approached, I had growing fears that something was very wrong and that this just wasn't going to suit. As I entered, I immediately saw that the narrow aisles were cluttered with fashionable prams, cotbeds, and every other means of nursery finery in a way that made clear what I had feared upon arrival; it would be utterly impossible for Will to navigate this shop. Worst of all, I knew Will would be gutted when he realized, which of course, he was. I stood there helpless and unable to help in any meaningful way as Will rolled in and silently surveyed the shop and then, after a silent moment, turned and wheeled out again.

Once we were back in the van and I'd finished my impotent tirade against the wanker shop owners, we had driven home in awkward silence, despite a few attempts at apologetic conversation from Georgina, who we all knew should have confirmed beforehand that the shop was accessible. It wasn't really her fault – to be fair – she rarely went out with Will and, when she did, Nate, Camilla and I were always along and responsible for sorting the details. Georgina simply hadn't known any better. I was the one who knew better and I should have called first and saved everyone the trouble; this was my fault.

Will reacted to the situation by simply not talking about it. I understood he was disappointed and, although he had done absolutely nothing wrong, he was embarrassed. It was painful for Will to be reminded of his disability and for him to have allowed himself to look forward to the shopping and setting up of the nursery and then to have been reminded so publically that he physically couldn't do it, was awful. He had let his guard down, which was unusual for him, and he regretted having done so. I was angry with myself for having allowed this to happen by getting caught up in the excitement and forgetting my common sense; typically I did everything I could to avoid incidents that would make him feel that he "couldn't" do things. I knew that incidents like this brought back all of his doubts about living life as a quad and, honestly, this frightened me. As a result, I avoided the topic at all costs and the nursery was still just an empty room with bare walls.

My attempted joke about the boxes serving as a nursery set had been thoughtless and had brought the whole incident at the shop back to me. I was silently chastising myself and reliving it when Will interrupted my thoughts on the matter with a laugh, followed by, "So, if I'm reading you correctly, Clark; you're implying – in a rather passive-aggressive way, I might add - that it is your opinion that we should, by this point, have done some work on the bloody nursery, is that it?"

I hesitated, "Well, I suppose we could do more than an empty room with four blank walls, if you like."

Will smiled suspiciously, "Yes and no, Clark. I mean, it is, after all, a baby, Clark – they can easily stay in our room, at least for some time. Frankly, I don't see what your rush is."

I watched him; unsure where he was going with this and whether he was serious or teasing. As I was considering how to respond, Nate reentered, with another load of gifts. After depositing them with the others, he reentered and, taking a seat beside me, he announced, "That's the last of it."

"Thank you, Nate." I said.

"Yes, and how many trips was that, Nate?" Will asked.

Nate considered before answering, "Four – no, wait, five trips."

"Quite impressive." Will said. "And did it all fit in the nursery?"

"Mainly," Nate replied. "You'll have to come see for yourselves. But first, I need a drink."

Nate was on his feet, to the kitchen and back in a flash with three drinks. He positioned Will's so he could reach it himself and handed mine to me next, before sitting down beside me again and sipping his own.

"So, Clark, tell me what we've gotten today, what gifts?"

Putting aside my anxiety about the nursery, I sipped my ginger ale and began, "Alright, let's see…first off, the generosity was overwhelming, Will; you'd not have believed it. You won't believe it, until you've seen it all."

"And this surprises you, Clark?"

I nodded.

"Well, I suggest you get used to it, Clark. Seriously: the first Traynor grandchild? Did you expect anything less than complete and utter excess?" Will said, with one of his trademark smiles.

"I know, I know – I've seen how Thomas is treated as well, always the prince, stealing my bedroom and all, but still, this is beyond! Some of it was to be expected, to be sure, the blankets, the cute outfits, the bibs; those I recognized, those I expected. Beyond that though, and I'm not joking about this, we also received a nose suction device, something called a 'windi,' which, after having read the box, I believe may be a prank gift. Also –and I swear this is true – we received a baby hammock."

Will just chuckled.

I turned to Nate, "Nate – you've seen it – tell him, please."

Will looked to Nate, who deadpanned, "I can attest that I did carry in a box marked baby hammock," he paused for effect, "but I can't speak to a 'nose sucker' or 'windi'."

"Well," Will announced, "you must not have brought in every parcel then, Nate, because Clark is telling me that we definitely received those items!"

Here, Will and Nate exchanged a look. Will suggested, "Clark, perhaps you need to go double check the car and be sure Nate's not left anything behind," he turned to Nate, "Nate, did you check the boot?"

Nate assumed an overly thoughtful pose, complete with one hand stroking his chin, "You know, now that you've mentioned it, I don't believe I did check the boot…"

He paused then, looked to Will, who looked to me, and asked, "Look, Nate's spent, Clark, would you mind terribly…?

They both looked at me, Nate unsuccessfully trying to suppress a grin and Will looking quite like the cat who swallowed the canary. I looked from one to the other for a moment before realizing what they were suggesting. "Who - me? You two must be joking! I'm knackered!"

Will glanced at Nate with raised eyebrows. "Will Traynor, No!" I continued, "I've been out all day. I don't fancy getting off this sofa, never mind going back outside and searching the boot of the car!"

Nate said nothing, nor did he move from his seat.

"Nate – look at you, you're fit as the butcher's dog! Won't you…" I trailed off. It was no use. Nate wasn't meeting my eyes. Will continued to look at me with puppy dog eyes. After a moment, feeling extremely annoyed, I dragged myself up and to the door, where I paused and decided to go out barefoot rather than try bending over to get into my shoes. "Thank you," they chimed in unison.

Sighing in disgust, I pulled open the door and headed out for the car. "Fine!"

When I returned, I did so in a bluster, exclaiming, "Well, you'll be happy to know that was utter tosh - I found bugger all out there," I said, stepping into the room only to find both Will and Nate gone. This took me aback and I paused for a moment before calling out, "Will? Nate?"

It was Nate who replied, from a distance. "We're here." And then, "In the nursery."

I continued in the direction of his voice, toward the nursery. As I turned down the hallway, I could see that the door was shut, which gave me a bit of a flutter, "Will?" I called out, anxiously, as I quickened my steps toward the nursery door.

Pulling the door open, I found Will before the huge mound of gifts that we'd received today, "What on earth?" I exclaimed.

"Surprise." Will said, wheeling back to reveal the full picture.

I was speechless. I stood, catching flies, until Will spoke again, "Well?"

Will's gaze remained steadily on me, as I looked around the room, in utter disbelief. He began to look worried, "Well, Clark? What do you say? Does it measure up?"

Tears filled my eyes and, as one spilled down my cheek.

Looking a bit worried, Will asked, "Is it alright?"

Finally finding my voice, I replied, "Oh yes."

"Yes?" He asked.

"Yes!" I said, clapping my hands and virtually squealing with delighted surprise.

Nate winked at Will, gave him the thumbs up, and then quietly exited the room. Will turned to me and began relaying the details of how he had pulled off his big surprise.

Unbeknownst to me, Will had been working for weeks. He had conceived and orchestrated the complete creation of the perfect nursery. Gone was the ugly, empty room; in its place was the most magnificent nursery I'd ever seen. As he explained, I learned that Will had all been planned out over the course of the past few weeks, with the support of the entire family and, of course, Nate, and had set it all up to be completed while I was out at my baby shower. Will had secretly purchased the most lovely, perfect nursery room set imaginable and had arranged for it to be delivered and set up today. Nate, under Will's direction, had painted the entire room in alternating walls of gorgeous pale yellow and fetching soft green, with a realistic blue sky on the ceiling, complete with birds in flight and a fluffy white clouds that faded to a peaceful starry night with a full moon as the ceiling met the wall beside the cotbed. My mum and dad had contributed the rug, a lovely braided oval of soft blues, pinks, yellows and greens (which Will swore posed no hazard at all for his chair – a fact that he demonstrated by gleefully rolling over the rug in all directions in his chair). Camilla had contributed an enchanting hand crafted bookcase, painted by Georgina and Mr. Traynor to complement the walls, and Treen and Thomas had filled it with a collection of classic children's books!

Turning to Will, I asked in astonishment, "Do you mean to tell me, Will Traynor, that you are responsible for all of this?" And, with a smile of pure satisfaction spreading across his face, Will nodded and said, "Why, yes, Clark; I am."

 _A/N: Just wanted to add a short note and apologize for the delay in getting this chapter done. I've been super busy with a new job and an interview/article for a non-fiction magazine. I hope you like this one – if so, please let me know and I will promise to get the next chapter done faster!_


	5. Chapter 5

New Chapter 5

Rolling out of bed left me breathless; it was week 36 and I was roughly the size of a mini-cooper (although not as cute or peppy). As I hauled myself to my feet, I noticed that Will was watching me. He had a look on his face that some may have described as a smile, but I chose to interpret it as a smirk; therefore, I glowered at him as I pushed past to the loo. I found myself using the loo approximately every thirty to forty five minutes lately. He'd done nothing in particular to deserve the glower; I was simply feeling foul and had to take it out on someone. Will was easiest.

When I emerged from the loo, Will had disappeared. This too annoyed me, although I could not quite put my finger on why. Again, just feeling angry at the world, I suppose. I stomped into the kitchen, where I found Will looking out the window while Nate fed him scrambled eggs. "Morning, Miss." Nate said as I entered.

I grunted back at him, pulled a pint of chocolate fudge ripple ice cream from the icebox, grabbed a soupspoon out of the drawer, and dug in. Nate looked from me to Will, who raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. I eased down in the chair next to Will and set to work on my breakfast. Nate poured a glass of water from the tap and set it down beside me, along with my prenatal vitamins, half a cantaloupe, and some bread with butter. "Thanks," I grunted, rubbing my side with one hand, as I set down the ice cream and nibbled the toast.

"How are we feeling this morning, love?" asked Will.

I thought a second, then said, "Like a hung-over elephant. And you?"

Will thought a second, then said, "Quite well, thank you."

"Well," I said sourly, "isn't that spawny for you?"

"Quite," he replied, winking at me with his eyes twinkling.

I ignored him for a moment or two, but that was all I could take, "What are you so chuffed about this morning anyway?"

Will looked at the kitchen clock. "You haven't forgotten, have you? We've a doctor's appointment at 11, Clark. And it's almost time to leave."

He eyed me up and down, "Are you planning to get dressed, mum? Or going in your jim-jams?"

Looking down and then from Will to Nate, I realized I was the only one of us three not dressed for the day. Blushing at this, while also laughing a bit at myself, I said, "I'll get dressed when I'm good and bloody ready, Will Traynor!"

Nate, who was washing up Will's breakfast dish in the sink looked up at this and said, "Take all the time you need, as long as it's not too much. I'll be getting the van round once I'm finished with this and then Will and I will just meet you out there. We'll need to leave here in 15 or we'll not be on time."

I slowly rose to my feet and moved to exit.

"Yes, do hurry, Clark," Will called after me, only half teasing.

"You may not realize this, Will Traynor, but I actually am hurrying; _this_ is me hurrying," I said as I shuffled back toward the bedroom.

As I was dressing, I had to shake my head at Will and the giddy optimism with which he greeted each of our visits to the doctor. I could not muster the same enthusiasm and certainly can't say I enjoyed the visits as Will did; on the contrary, I greeted each one with nervous anticipation and was always quite relieved when they were finished and we were back at home with no bad news. Today was no different. My head was hurting from the stress and began outright pounding as I bent down and tried to tie my trainers. Gasping for breath after a few seconds, I gave up quickly on that idea and slipped into a pair of flip-flops that I had taken to keeping next to the bed.

Shortly, I was outside and pulling myself up into the van. Feeling triumphant to have beaten the boys, I allowed myself a bit of fun by beeping the horn at Nate as he secured Will's chair in place, "Hurry up," I called, "We've not got all day!"

"Always the saucy one, Clark," said Will, with a smile. I turned and winked at him, as Nate headed around to the driver's door and hopped in. We were on our way.

Half an hour later, we were relaxing in the waiting room taking the "Great British Quiz" in the new issue of "Britain" magazine. Nate was reading the questions while Will and I answered. The quiz this month was on history, so of course, Will was trouncing me. We were all enjoying a good laugh wondering just how Will knew that Queen Victoria had been fluent not only in English and French, but also Hindustani, when the waiting room door opened and Sally, the nurse, called my name.

Will skillfully navigated the turns of the hallway as we made our way back to the ultrasound room. "Getting to be a real pro at this, aren't we, Mr. Trainor?" Sally said with a smile as Will rolled precisely through the middle of the narrow doorway into the room. As he did so, Nate deftly pulled a chair out of the way so that Will could roll up directly to the exam table upon which I was lying.

The ultrasound began normally enough, with Sally chattering away as she lubed up my belly. "36 weeks, my, you're in the homestretch now, loves."

She put the wand to my belly and started her scan. Will watched the monitor intensely as she worked and, while he watched it, I watched him. "Heartbeat looks good," said Sally.

Will's face relaxed and he exhaled the breath he'd been holding as Sally gave her report. She went through what I assume was a list of memorized questions for this point in pregnancy. Was I having any round ligament pain? (No.) Had I experienced any Braxton-Hicks contractions? (No.) Pelvic, joint or tailbone pain? (Maybe a bit stiff, nothing awful.) How about edema? (Are you joking? Have you seen my ankles?) Itchy skin? Constipation? (Yes and yes, thanks for asking.) Then, she paused.

Sally ran the wand over the same spot repeatedly, leaning in and examining the image on the monitor.

Will's face tightened. He squinted at the monitor.

My stomach contracted, "What?"

I craned my neck toward the monitor, "What is it?"

Sally shook her head, "It's alright; we're fine."

She began punching numbers into the keyboard. "I just want to run an AFI here."

Will, Nate and I all asked questions at once.

"Why?"

"What is an AFI?"

"What are you seeing?"

Sally remained calm, "An AFI is an 'amniotic fluid index;' it's a non-invasive way for me to test the level of amniotic fluid," she said.

"Why?" I asked again, struggling to sit up.

Sally looked for a moment like she might push me back down, but then she sat back on her stool and sat the wand back in its holder, explaining that we needed to check the level of my amniotic fluid in four areas so that we could assess what was going on, get a clear picture of the fluid levels, and figure out whether there was any problem. Sally continued on to explain that, if my levels were low, it could indicate a problem, but that did not mean it was a serious or dangerous situation and that, even if there was a problem, it was most likely something that could be addressed quickly and easily. I looked at Will, who looked as queasy as I suddenly felt. I slipped my hand into his and leaned back on the table and willed myself to keep breathing while Sally took her readings.

When she'd had finished, Sally wiped down my belly and pulled my shirt back down. "Doctor Wu will be in shortly to review everything with you," she said and exited.

Will and I had time only to exchange a brief look of confused apprehension before the door reopened and Dr. Wu entered with a printout, presumably of my test results. As usual, she got straight to the point, "Good morning, I see we have low amniotic fluid level."

She held up the printout and then set it on the exam table beside me, so that we could all see it. "Here is normal," she said, pointing, "and here, you are," she said, pointing again to the levels that were clearly lower.

"We call this Oliogohydramnios. Not uncommon, happens about 10% of time."

"What do we do about it?" asked Will.

Dr. Wu had moved over to the ultrasound machine and was pushing up her sleeves. "I check," she said, as she put a hand on my chest to push me down.

She pushed up my shirt and squirted lube on my belly. Moving the wand back and forth, she leaned close the monitor, watching something. She did this for quite some time before Nate asked what she was looking for. Dr. Wu just held up a hand to silence him. When she did this, I tried to sit up, but again, she held up her hand, this time to me. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity she announced, "Baby not breathing on own."

Will gasped and I lurched up to a sitting position. Before either of us could speak, Dr. Wu spoke again, "No worry. Baby okay, mama breathing for mama and for baby – both okay. Problem is, by this time, baby should breathe on own; baby should at least sometimes practice breathing on own. Baby should use lungs. Baby let mama do all work is not good."

"Is she alright?" I asked.

"Yes, I say already, baby okay," Dr. Wu said.

Will and I exchanged a look of sheer relief. We looked back to Dr. Wu, who looked like she had more to say, but didn't speak right away. We waited while she printed and reviewed the results of her exam. Finally, she spoke again, "Yes. Baby okay," she paused again, then nodded, as if she'd made up her mind. She said, "Baby okay. Mama okay. But still, now is good time for baby to come out."

I looked at her, quizzically. Will looked from the doctor to me and back to the doctor. "Come out?" he asked, uncertainly.

"Yep." Dr. Wu replied. "Come out. You go to hospital now, I meet you there, we induce labor, baby come out."

She turned to Nate, "You drive them."

Nate nodded affirmatively and then paused before he asked, "Wait, now?"

"Now." Dr. Wu said, calmly.

I was sitting, stupidly, on the table, not quite processing what I was hearing. Nate was likewise frozen in place. Thankfully, Will jolted us into action, with a calm but firm command to Nate, "Look lively, mate; you need to get the van now. It's time for us to go."

As he said this, Will moved his chair toward the door and Nate came to life. Jingling the keys, he sprung into action, pulling open the door for Will, who zipped past him. As he followed Will down the hallway, Nate called over his shoulder, "Meet us out front in five, Lou."


	6. Chapter 6

Me Before You: A New Chapter 6

We arrived at hospital and were soon checked into a room. Once we were settled in, me in bed and Will beside me, Nate excused himself to the waiting room. I think he left partially to give us privacy, and partially because he was tired of hearing me ask a thousand worrisome questions that each began with "what if?"

I knew I was being absurd, but I was beside myself with worrying. I spent most of the drive to hospital peppering Will and Nate with questions. Now that we were in a room, I was on my phone, searching the internet for information, all of which I passed on in real time to Will. Will was seated quietly by the window and responded to my updates with vague murmurings of "hmmm," "alright," and "I see."

Finally, I stopped talking long enough to realize that his mind was elsewhere, "Will, are you even listening?"

No response.

"Please, Will. Will? At least tell me what you're thinking!"

Will turned his chair and looked at me then, quite lovingly and with surprising calm. He nodded slightly before answering. "You want to know what I'm thinking? I am _thinking_ that you and I are actually about to become parents, Clark. Can you fancy that? You and me - parents."

Absurdly, I let out a little gasping sob at the enormity of this idea. Will rolled right up next to me at the bed, watching me. He waited until I caught my breath and raised my head. When I did, our eyes met and, as they did, he smiled his most reassuring smile at me and said softly, "AndI am thinking _that_ is exceptionally wonderful news."

Will let that sink in a moment and then, turning more serious, added, "And I do think you're correct to do some research as you are. I also think that we should have Dr. Wu run a second AFI, so that we can see if it will confirm or contradict the findings of the first, and that we should have her run a deep pocket test as well. I don't see how that can hurt. Then, we'll have all of that information and we'll be able to talk with her and figure out what to do next."

He paused, watching me; when I didn't answer, he added, "I have every confidence in you, Clark; everything is going to be just fine, you'll see."

Not wanting to say what I was thinking, but at the same time, feeling like I had to, I said, "I'm just so frightened, Will."

He smiled reassuringly, his eyes twinkling, then whispered conspiratorially, "Me too, Clark." Then he winked, "But I have a very good feeling about this. It's going to be alright. You'll see. We're going to make excellent parents, you and I."

Tears spilled down my cheeks. As they did, Will smiled again and then an odd look crossed his face, just for a second, and then his features clouded over.

"Will, what is it?"

He averted his eyes, shook his head and readjusted his expression before looking back up, "It's nothing. I'm sorry."

"No, really, Will – what is it?"

I could see that he was considering denying whatever it was, or making up some fiction, but I knew him too well and he wasn't going to get away with it. My panic was rising as I imagined that he'd just thought of some other danger to the baby that I'd not yet realized, which of course, Will realized I was thinking, because he knew me as well as I knew him, so he spoke more, I think, to save me from unnecessarily worrying about the baby than to answer my question. "It's stupid, really," he said, faking a small laugh, "It's nothing. I just," he paused for a long moment, as if he was trying to find the words, then he looked at me, with that rare and terrible sad look that sometimes came into his eyes, and he said, "sometimes I forget, you know? Just for a moment there, I thought I could just reach out and …"

He shook his head and his voice trailed off as he quickly turned away, looking back at the window. After a long moment, he said quietly, "I was just wishing I could dry your tears, Clark."

He looked back to me then, "Sometimes it's the small things that are hardest, you know?"

Not trusting myself to speak, I just held my breath and nodded my head.

I don't know how much later Dr. Wu arrived. Will and I passed the time in silence, each lost in our thoughts, I suppose. The arrival of the doctor brought us back to the present. Will explained our wishes about the tests to her and she concurred with our desire to repeat the first test and run the second; both were conducted quickly and yielded similar results. My fluid level was low, not so low as to constitute an utter emergency, but low enough that when coupled with the baby's lack of independent breathing, that Dr. Wu decided to put me on IV fluids and a baby monitor so that she could keep an eye on the status of both for the rest of the day and throughout the overnight hours.

Will wanted to stay the night, but Nate and I agreed it made more sense for him to go home and get some rest while he had the chance. Will wasn't thrilled about it, but he eventually capitulated and allowed Nate to drive him home. They left just after mum and Treen arrived. This was no coincidence; Treen was her usual bossy self and shooed the boys out, telling them to get their rest so they could be "useful" tomorrow. She was not all bossiness though; she also brought me a paper sack filled with tacky magazines from the gift shop and a special care package from Thomas. He had sent me his teddy bear, accompanied by very specific written instructions explicitly stating that this was only a "loan" and that no one was touch the bear except me or "baby." Treen had me sign the document before she left, which was sooner than she expected because, apparently visiting hours were over and the nurse kicked them out shortly after they arrived.

Once they'd gone, I settled in and relaxed as best I could. I was too wound up for sleep, so I passed the hours reading the magazines that Treen had brought. When my eyes tired, I switched to watching cooking shows on my in-room telly. It was actually not an unpleasant night at all. Other than having to urinate about 1,000 times, I was fairly comfortable. I finally drifted off for a few hours of sleep near dawn.

Nate and Will were back before morning rounds. Will looked exhausted, but insisted he was fine. We were both on edge when the doctor came in for morning rounds and listened intently as she told us my fluid level was lower than when I'd been admitted and that the baby's independent breathing was better, but still not where it "should be." Dr. Wu announced that it was time to induce labor. She assured us that the baby was "ready" to come and that this was the safest course of action, albeit with some worries, Will and I took a deep breath and told her to proceed.

We spent the rest of the day watching old movies on the player in my room and laughing about Treen's magazines. As evening rolled in and I was still "not progressing," the nursing staff increased my medication and set up the other bed in our room for Will to spend the night. Nate stayed as well, sleeping in the chair, so that he could attend to Will's needs. Will had been adamant that he would not stay the night if there were any danger of his doing so distracting the staff from my care, so Nate stepped up. They were both fast asleep when my contractions began in earnest around 1 AM. Things went rather quickly from there and, by 4:00, I was just about done in from pushing. Will was right beside me the whole time and must have been nearly as exhausted as I was. Nate was there as well, staying out of the way unless he was needed to assist Will. Finally, after what felt like a week of pushing, the baby still wasn't out and Dr. Wu suggested we consider an episiotomy. This was something that I had originally been opposed to, based on my research and desire for as natural a birth as possible, but by this point, I would been game to cut or even cut off any given body part, just to move things along.

Will grimaced as he watched a nurse inject me with a numbing agent and looked like he might actually faint when Dr. Wu made the actual cut. I felt nothing and was simply thrilled when the cutting did the trick. Almost before I knew what was happening, Dr. Wu was telling me to give "one more big good push!" and telling Will, "here comes your baby, Papa!" Then, before we knew it, we were welcoming our beautiful girl to the world.

Willa Clark Traynor arrived at 4:32 AM. As I watched Willa enter this world, I also watched Will watching Willa, and in that moment – I not only saw my daughter born, I saw my husband reborn.


	7. Chapter 7

Me before you…a new chapter 7

In a way, it was the photo gallery that introduced me to Will. It was a silent introduction, of course, and occurred during those early awkward weeks after Camilla had first hired me, when Will still refused not only to talk to me, but refused to acknowledge me at all, except through random snarky comments and embarrassing observations about my ineptitude, I had many painful hours each day to fill in order to earn my pay. Not knowing what else to do, I spent most of those awkward hours wandering Will's house and studying him in those photos, getting to know him. Or, a version of him.

The photos were all "old," by which I mean, pre-accident. In them, a Will I had (and would) never actually meet, lived. He lived smiling and tan in a crisp white shirt and khakis that sat low on his hips, as his eyes followed the flight of a perfectly hit golf ball; he lived on the ocean, his hair wind-whipped and his shirt off, wet skin gleaming in the sun with forearms and abs rippling, as he leaned back against the rope holding a sail; he lived on beaches, tennis courts, bicycles, and mountain tops. And no matter where he lived in those photos, he lived differently than the Will I knew.

I remember how, in those early days, I struggled to reconcile the man I saw in those photos with the man who lay in the bed. The man in the bed was so changed, so far-removed from the man in the photos; different was not the correct word, it was as if they were, literally, two different men.

I loved looking at those photos; not only were they beautiful, but they also gave me hope. It was a strange hope, not one that the man in the photos would return, exactly, but the hope that maybe someone who had attacked life with such lust could recapture at least some measure of it and live again. Because what Will was doing in that bed when we first met was not living; it was existing, but only barely. And, as I would come to learn, it was not happening by choice.

The more I learned of Will, the more I realized that he was no longer the dashing, James Bond-esque bloke in those photos. And that bloke wasn't coming back (ever). There was the obvious, of course; Will could no longer climb, sail, ski, or hit golf and tennis balls. But that's not what I mean; it was his perspective that had changed, along with his body, and because of that, it was no longer fun to look back and reminisce about the good old days. He was not an old man, looking back on a life well lived; he was a young man, cursing yesterdays that passed to quickly and tomorrows that would never come.

Now, Will's mountains and oceans were everyday tasks. He still enjoyed a good fight, but the fights he fought now were very different than those he'd faced before; the stakes were higher, but the battles were much less sexy. And he fought them against himself – mind and body. He fought over things like breathing. Sounds simple, but Will did it through lungs that had to be coaxed to work even though no matter what we did they still repeatedly filled with fluid that he couldn't cough up. There were innumerable battles to fight and while Will fought valiantly, it exhausted him. And while the man he had been before was still inside him, Will had changed in ways that made it impossible for him to ever recapture the particular type of joy he'd had before. It had been a physical joy that came from looking the world in the eye and feeling ready to conquer whatever came at you.

Anyway, I think it was for all of those reasons and more that Will had Nathan take those photos down. And I think it's part of why he didn't talk to me about it before hand or ask me to help. One day, months and months later, I came in and they were just gone. Not wanting to upset Will, I waited for a quiet moment to ask Nathan where they'd gone. He took a moment to answer. I had to ask twice. When he answered, he did so without looking up.

"Rubbish bin," he said.

Disbelieving, I raised an eyebrow at him. When he didn't reply I felt the blood drain from my face, "Truly?"

He nodded.

I felt sick. I spluttered, trying to form a coherent though, "But…who?" I finally managed.

"Me."

Then he added, "Will's idea."

Again, I was at a loss, and spluttering. "When? Why?"

Nathan took a beat, seeming to look for the right words. Finally he just shrugged. "Does it matter?"

I didn't hesitate, "You shouldn't have."

"I shouldn't have what?"

"Taken them down! Where are they now, really?"

"Gone."

"Are you mad?!"

Nathan just looked at me.

I was furious now, really glaring at him and breathing hard. "How dare you?"

He continued to look at me without speaking for a long moment before he spoke, calmly and slowly. "They were _his_ photos."

I felt slapped. Tears came into my eyes. Blinking madly I tried to fight them, but they spilled stupidly down my face anyway. I turned away.

Nathan didn't say anything. He just waited. When I finally composed myself enough to turn and face him again he was just waiting, looking at me sadly, but not unkindly. He was right, of course. And the very fact that I'd not considered the simple fact that they were indeed Will's photos was painfully humiliating; and the fact that I, of all people, hadn't seen this right off the crack was the very reason why it was so important. This realization dawning, I felt disappointed in myself for not seeing it sooner. I didn't need to explain this to Nathan though. He just nodded and drew me in for a hug.

It was ages before anyone mentioned the photos. It was Will who brought them up. We were sitting in the living room, just the two of us, me reading a book aloud. When I finished the chapter, Will jumped in, suggesting that we try to take some new photos. "Adventure photos," he called them. Beaming, I looked up from to book to Will's face, thrilled with the notion of him adventuring. I went to speak but before I begin, Will smiled and said, "Yes, Clarke; but this time, we'll use you as the subject."

"Gawd, blimey!" I sputtered, "Me?"

Will smiled. "You."

"Are you mad, Will?"

He cocked an eyebrow, "Me?"

I raised one of mine back at him.

"Clarke, just think about it," then he added, "please."

I paused for a moment, "Thought about it. Still at no."

"Why?"

"Well, I … Because, Will, I …" I struggled to put into words what felt like plain common sense, but came up empty.

Will kept his eyes on mine, watching and listening with what I felt sure was mock earnestness. When I paused, he smiled encouragingly, "Go on, Clarke."

"Ugh! Because, Will I am not athletically inclined and I don't enjoy 'adventures' as you call them. They frighten me."

He thought about this for a moment. "Everyone enjoys something though, Clarke; everyone's got something a little bit frightening and a bit enticing too, that's what makes an adventure an adventure."

"Will, no. Just no."

"Come one, luv, play along," he lowered his voice, drawing me in with his eyes, "name just one thing you'd do, Clarke - if you knew for certain that you couldn't fail."

And so it went, until finally we agreed that I might like to try rock climbing. _Indoor_ rock climbing.

"One time," I told him, just one time, "for you, Will."

He laughed at that, told me I'd love it, and then excused himself to start working out the details of his plan. He wanted to do it before I changed my mind, he said, with a wink.

The morning of, I woke up with a serious case of the collywobbles, but I put on a brave face. Nathan drove us to the gym for my private lesson. Things looked a bit dodgy when we arrived because, although we'd told them Will was in a chair and they'd assured us there was a ramp to enter the building, they'd neglected to mention the three steps leading down from the sign in area to the climbing area. It took some time, but we sorted it by using the portable ramp we always traveled with. It too was a bit dodgy, but it did the trick.

Don, the owner of the gym (and my private instructor for the day) hit it off with Will right away. Nathan and I might as well have been invisible as they sat chatting while Nathan and I first set up the ramp and then set to work on the tripod and camera. All the while, Will and Don prattled on about climbing; clearly, Will was in his element, (even if I was not).

Once the ramp was set, the basics were explained and reviewed, and I was harnessed up, I was out of reasons to procrastinate. Don started me out on the lowest wall with the largest holds; I think it was for children, actually, but I didn't care; I was still a bleeding wreck by the time I was halfway up; my heart was pounding and my hands were sweating like crazy, but what really did me in was that Will called out, "you can do it, Clarke!" Hearing his voice, I turned my head to look at him. I was intending to give him a winning smile, but when I looked, I realized how far below me he was -and it absolutely turned my stomach so that, instead of smiling, I nearly passed out! Gripping the rope for dear life, I managed to squeak out, "Down! Please, down, please."

"What?" Don called up.

"Down!"

"You've got this," Don replied encouragingly.

"No," I replied, "No. I can't! I can't do it!"

"Not with that attitude, you can't, Clarke!" Will called up at me.

This got both Don and Nathan laughing, which annoyed me so much that I forgot how scared I was. Taking a deep breath, I raised my eyes to the bar at the top of the wall – to what Don had called the summit – "You can do this," I said to myself; and before I knew it, I was there. I had done it!

Everyone cheered. Will and Nathan hooted and hollered as I descended, Nathan snapping pictures the whole time. My knees absolutely buckled as a I hit the ground, but Don caught me before I fell and pulled me back to a standing position. I caught my breath and leaned on the arm of Will's chair, as he beamed at me. "Nice job, Clarke," he whispered, adding more loudly, "I knew you could do it."

"Over here!" Nathan called, Will and I looked over and Nathan snapped another photo. We laughed, but Will's face quickly turned serious and I realized he was scanning the gym, looking for my next route. After a moment, he found it; nodding slightly, Will gestured with his eyes to a taller wall; Don followed his gaze.

"Ah, good call; yes, let's go to that," Don said, nodding at Will and stepping toward the next wall.

Rather unexpectedly, I followed him, willingly, and without even thinking about refusing. It was then that I realized I was actually enjoying myself. With this realization, a combination of triumph and relief bubbled up inside me, and I burst out laughing and headed over to my next mountain.

I climbed for hours that day, not wanting it to end and climbing until my body was too exhausted to do anymore. I was so tired, in fact, that I don't remember many details beyond what I've written here; the rest of the day is a blur. The good news though, is that we have plenty of photos to help us remember it by.

Will and I actually put those photos, along with hundreds of others, around the house, in a new photo gallery that extends from the entrance foyer all the way into Willa's nursery. Sitting on her bedside table are two very special photos; one is of me summiting that very first wall, the other is of Will on one of his mountain tops. That one, of course, is from the old gallery. Will had Camilla bring it over, along with a few others from her collection. I'm glad he did.


End file.
